


Exile

by Kasena



Series: Finding What Was Lost [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drarropoly: Founders Edition - A Drarry Game/Fest, Drunken Confessions, Eating Disorders, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28159533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasena/pseuds/Kasena
Summary: Draco is out late at night in Hogwarts. Harry has his map and cloak. It's all too familiar, and that familiarity bites at him, but he swears this time will be different.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Finding What Was Lost [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025454
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52
Collections: Drarropoly '20: Founders Edition





	Exile

**Author's Note:**

> Either include ~~the Fat Friar~~ OR **include a theme of forgiveness in your story.** _+ **Utilise either a drunken heart-to-heart** \- OR - ~~"The way to a man's heart is through his stomach."~~ \+ Include the theme of self-sacrifice in your story._ **Minimum:** 3400 words. **Maximum:** 4920 words

When Harry went looking for Malfoy, he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d find. A part of him thought that he would find Malfoy in the middle of some sort of ritual or potion or something to try to bring Riddle back from the dead again and become his right hand. But then, he was at least mature enough to recognize that that part of him was stupid and immature.

It was his eighth year at Hogwarts.  _ Headmistress _ McGonagall had been kind enough to invite everyone back for an eighth year so they could get a  _ proper _ education and sit their N.E.W.T.s without having to worry about how or when they might die, whether or not their friends and family were okay. And it had been nice, for the most part.

Alright, it had been… It had been  _ okay. _ Harry knew he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable with the whole ‘eighth year’ thing. It was one thing for McGonagall to make a separate table for them at the Great Hall, since they weren’t like the other Hogwarts students, but for her to take them all out of their houses entirely, and give them new dorms, and one combined eighth year common room? If you asked Harry, that was going way too far. Not that any of their arguments had gotten through to her. McGonagall had told them that was the way it was going to be, and nothing they did or said seemed to sway her. So that was the way it had been.

Harry was at least mildly surprised that Malfoy had decided to come back to school as well. Some part of him had expected him to fade into disgraced obscurity after everything. But then he didn’t. But he sort of did? Where he used to be like the center of attention — bloody peacock he was — and was always loud and grandiose about everything, now… Now he was more like a shadow. Half the time, other students didn’t even seem to notice that Malfoy was there. He was quiet, and he was always so solemn all the time.

His friends had come back, too, and it was rare to ever see one of them by themselves.  _ Especially _ Malfoy. If Harry didn’t know any better, he would say that it was like Parkinson and Zabini were  _ protecting _ him. But Harry didn’t remember ever seeing anything that he might need protecting from.

Now, though, was one of those very rare times. Harry had entered the common room to see that Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. Parkinson was reading Witch Weekly with her legs thrown over the arm of the chair she’d been sat in, and Zabini was in his own chair nearby studying his arse off. Like another Hermione, he seemed to be. Harry shuddered at just the thought of that. The world was bad off enough with just one Hermione, he was pretty sure they couldn’t take a second one.

Heading to his dorm, Harry had grabbed his cloak and left without another word, pulling the Marauder’s Map out of his pocket.  _ Old habits die hard, _ he thought bitterly to himself. It was messed up, he knew that much, but it felt… almost nice, in a way. Good to fall back into a habit. A routine. It was  _ easy, _ to focus on Malfoy and what he might be getting up to. He didn’t honestly think that he was getting up to anything ‘evil’ or nefarious, but… something was definitely going on that he was especially tight-lipped about. At least, with anyone else at least.

Looking at the map, he frowned at seeing that Malfoy was in that strange hidden off alcove just beside the Charms classroom. It was a little small, and he was pretty sure it was known as one of the top places that prefects and professors found couples snogging each other’s faces off. But he was alone. And he wasn’t moving. That in itself was odd. Watching the paths the professors and prefects took, as well as Filch and Mrs. Norris — who was most definitely on her way out the door anytime now — Harry was nearly there when he slowed himself down.

The last time he’d walked in on Malfoy having a… dramatic moment, they’d both done things they (probably) regretted. If Harry wanted this to end better, he needed to be careful, and think. If Malfoy drew a wand on him, he supposed his old  _ Expelliarmus _ standby could always work. It hadn’t failed him yet, after all.

Creeping closer to the alcove, Harry internally cursed at realizing that he was crying. More like sobbing. All alone, hidden from sight of the rest of the student body, Malfoy was sobbing. And Harry was sneaking up on him to spy on him because he had some kind of obsession with knowing what Malfoy was always doing. Now didn’t that sound familiar?

Taking a breath, Harry steeled himself and walked forward. He was able to see Malfoy, now. He was curled up on stone that looked a bit like a seat, jutting out from the wall. And… He had a bottle of firewhiskey grasped tightly by the neck in his fingers. Slowly tugging the cloak off of himself to not startle him, Harry took another step towards him. “Malfoy.” What was he doing? This was stupid. What was Harry expecting, exactly? They would have some kind of drunken heart-to-heart, and he would realize that maybe they weren’t so different after all? That sounded a lot more like the story of some terrible muggle movie, than his life.

Malfoy startled, looking up at him, and… Oh hell. His hair was an utter mess, he’d definitely been crying for a while — did he have  _ makeup _ running? — and his face was all splotchy and red, and- And purple? The area around his eye was  _ purple. _ Rather than cursing at him, Malfoy seemed to try to wipe at his face, still sniffling. “What are  _ you _ doing here, you giant prick?” ...Okay. Giant prick. That was a new one.

Sitting beside him, Harry watched him take another swig from the bottle. “I… came looking for you. Are you alright?”

“ _ No, _ I’m not alright, you big bloody bollock.” Wow. Yeah, he was definitely drunk. “I’m the favorite punching bag for fourth years everywhere, I’m  _ not _ alright.”

The favorite- Wait. Harry stared at him. He looked so damn sorry for himself, Harry couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. “You mean a bunch of fourth years did this to you?”

“What do you care? You haven’t cared once.”

Sitting up properly, Harry looked him over. “Once? You mean this isn’t the first time?” Draco didn’t answer him, shifting a bit. Harry thought the last couple months back over. He and Zabini and Parkinson were barely ever seen apart. When they were, it always seemed like they were anxious, waiting for their missing party member. He’d  _ thought _ he’d seen one or two of them in the hospital ward when he’d checked the map, but he hadn’t really thought about it. “Draco, how much has this been happening?”

Draco shrugged back at him. “Some. Doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t-” Harry shook his head. This had all been happening under his  _ nose. _ And he hadn’t even noticed. The moonlight from some of the nearby windows filtered in, and when it was enough to illuminate their space, Harry realized that… Draco looked like  _ shit. _ His hair, which was usually shiny and always looked soft, was limp, like he’d only barely ran a comb through it. His skin looked thin and sickly, and his cheeks were more hollow than they’d been before. Harry was forced to come to terms with a lot of things all at once.

He reached over and grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey, gulping down some of it for himself. Draco and his friends were getting treated like shit by the rest of the school. It looked like Draco was barely taking care of himself. He may have even been starving himself. “That’s  _ my _ alcohol! I smuggled it fair and square!”

It almost made Harry laugh. He was drunk and this was the closest to the old Draco he’d seen in a long time. The one that made him want to punch him square in the nose because he was a whiny brat. “Yeah? ‘N I stole it fair and square.”

It was a little nice, he supposed. Draco being his usual bratty self. It made him feel like things were almost normal. Draco seemed to sniffle, wiping at his face again. “Why don’t you just leave me alone, Potter?”

Harry sat back for a second. That was a good question. Why didn’t he just leave Draco alone? “I don’t know.” That was the honest truth. He’d always… Draco had always had this sort of magnetism about him. Harry didn’t think he’d be able to leave Draco alone properly even if he wanted to. “Who gave you that shiner?” As he asked, Harry took a few more sips from the bottle. It tasted foul, but it hit his stomach and felt like it warmed him up, so it wasn’t all bad.

“A couple of the Hufflepuffs. Pomfrey likes it better if we see her in the mornings, than late at night.” Yeah. That made sense. Still.  _ Hufflepuffs. _ He couldn’t say he was totally surprised.

“How come you don’t stop them?”

Draco shrugged, and Harry thought he felt Draco starting to lean against him. “I deserve it, don’t I? I treated everyone else like shit through all of school. About time they get to turn it around on me.”

“Give you a taste of your own medicine.” Harry thought about it as Draco took the bottle back and sipped off it. “I don’t think you deserve it.”

“No, I deserve more. ‘S why you’ve been ignoring it, yeah?”

He- Jesus christ, Draco seriously thought he knew all this shit was going on and he just turned his nose up and kept walking? “I wasn’t ignoring it,” Harry told him, trying to defend himself. “I just didn’t know.”

When he heard Draco snort, he winced. He guessed it was a little unbelievable. “Followed me every day for the first seven years and don’t know. That’s what I get, I guess.”

Harry frowned, trying to turn to face Draco, causing the other to startle against him. “Hey. You don’t deserve this shit.”

Draco stared back at him, eyes puffy and red and cloudy. “No? Why not?”

Shaking his head Harry looked back at him. “Jesus, Draco, none of us deserve this. We all went through a bloody war. You definitely don’t deserve this.”

He wished he had one of those sobriety potions. It felt like Draco needed it. Shit, maybe he needed it. That firewhiskey hit hard and fast. “Then what do I deserve?”

Lost for words, Harry stared back at him again. “I don’t know.”

Draco seemed to tuck himself back a little further into the alcove, and Harry felt like- Like he was losing him, almost. He didn’t  _ want _ to push Draco away. It… It felt like if he did, something bad would happen. So Harry looked back at him, and he did what he was good at.

He opened his fat mouth.

“Is this what you’ve been doing since we came back? Punishing yourself like this?”

Draco looked at him and shrugged again. “Why not? You didn’t let the Ministry do it.”

Harry frowned back at him. “Because they shouldn’t have.”

“Why not?”

Jesus. They were just talking in circles. Snatching the bottle, Harry gulped down what was left. “Because you’ve already paid back whatever debt to society you had.”

Draco stared back at him. “When did I do that? I don’t remember doing that.”

Harry circled around the question. “You haven’t been eating as much. Your skin used to be more… pink. Your hair looks like you barely take care of it.”

“I don’t see why I should put any sort of an effort into it all, anymore.”

Jesus fucking christ. How had this all slipped by Harry’s notice? How did he just… Draco was right. This was all right in front of him the last few months, and… And he  _ chose _ not to see it. He just ignored it all. “I think you should.”

“Why?”

“Because god dammit, Draco Malfoy, I think you matter!”

Everything was quiet for a minute, and Harry was  _ sure _ that he’d just fucked everything up, because that was the second best thing he was good at. Now he was upset there wasn’t anymore to drink. “Why do  _ you _ think I matter? I was a cunt to you.”

Holy fuck. The word ‘cunt’ just fell out of Draco Malfoy’s mouth. Harry hadn’t even been sure Draco knew how to curse. “Yeah? And you’re probably the reason half of us are still alive. I mean, fuck, Draco, you stood there in your own house that got taken over by Death Eaters, looked me in the eyes, then lied to their faces.”

Draco glanced to him before looking away. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means a lot.” Harry sighed. “That’s why I don’t think you deserve to get shit on. Way I see it, you saved my life. You saved Ron and ‘Mione’s lives. Luna’s talked good about you, too, since the end of the war. Far as I see it, you already repaid ‘society’ for all the shit you did.”

Draco sat there, and it felt like he’d said something wrong, but finally he chuckled. “I thought you just defended me to the Wizengamot to be the damned hero.” Fuck that.

“I  _ hate _ being the hero.” When Draco’s head swivelled around to look at him, he saw the motion immediately set the blond off, and he seemed to make himself dizzy, a hand shooting out against the wall to catch himself. Harry couldn’t help but to laugh at it. “I never wanted to be the hero. I just wanted to be Harry.”

“Bloody hell.”

“Careful,” Harry told him with a grin. “Almost sound like Ron.”

Draco made a face, “Oh,  _ fuck _ that.” Harry laughed again. He couldn’t help it. He’d never seen Draco like this before. It was pretty funny, especially hearing him curse like that. He always was way too posh for all that. “So- So you forgive me? For everything?”

Harry stared at the wall opposite him. “I don’t know about all that,” he finally said. “I mean… You said some  _ shit. _ I’m not the only one you have to apologize to. But… I know you don’t believe in all that like you used to. So being an arse to me in school? Yeah. Yeah, water under the bridge.”

“Oh.” Draco was leaning against him, and damn. All the firewhiskey was gone. “Should’ve taken Blaise’s stash. He’s got good drinks. Some muggle. Not bad.”

Harry snorted, looking at him. “You drink muggle drinks?”

“Yeah. They’re not so bad. They get the job done, don’t they?” Well, he had him there.

Thinking about it, Harry nodded. “Yeah. They get the job done.”

The silence between them was… it was unfamiliar, but at the same time, it was comfortable. That didn’t feel like it made sense, but at the same time, it did? Jesus, fucking firewhiskey did its job alright. “How come you came and found me?”

Harry took a second to realize that Draco was talking to him. He’d asked him a question. He’d- Oh. “I was worried about you.”

“You were?”

“Yeah I was. I’ve been worried about you, you idiot. You were alone after curfew, and Blaise and Pansy were in the common room. That wasn’t like you. I was worried.”

“Oh.”

Harry was glad that made sense to Draco. It didn’t feel like it made sense. “Yeah.”

Draco shifted and now he was sitting up a bit more, still leaning against him. His hand fidgeted and shifted in his lap before Harry looked down and saw — and felt too — Draco’s hand grabbed at his, and messed until their fingers were intertwined. It was… nice. Feeling the way Draco’s hand fit into his like they just… Like they  _ fit. _ “Your hand’s cold.”

“I run cold.” Was that true? Maybe. Harry always felt like he ran hot. Hermione called him and Ron both hot heads often enough. Draco being so cold didn’t make sense, though. It couldn’t have been good for him to be so cold. Maybe Harry could warm him up.

Letting go of his hand, he shifted and adjusted and just caught Draco’s face. He looked… He looked so worried, and scared. But Harry just kept adjusting until his arm was linked around Draco’s properly, and he twined their hands again. Maybe that would help warm him up. “I run hot. Guess we match.”

Draco made a quiet noise. It sounded a little like a laugh. Maybe it was a sob. It was a little hard to tell. “Guess we do.”

After what felt like forever, Harry was sure that Draco was warm. And he felt just a little less tipsy. More? Hm. Still hard to tell. He pulled at Draco to pull the both of them to stand. “Come on. We should probably get back to the dorm.” Oh wait. Shit. His cloak was around here somewhere, wasn’t it?

When he stood with the cloak in hand, Draco was staring at him again. He couldn’t tell if that was a good or a bad thing, though. “Er-” Just then, Draco surged forward — down? — and planted his lips against Harry’s.

It was a little harsh, and rough, and a little like Draco’s usual gruff exterior. It kinda surprised Harry. Well, no. That wasn’t right. It definitely surprised Harry. But… It wasn’t bad. Maybe it was the drink, but he might actually say that he  _ liked _ it. Draco pulled away, and he looked nervous, like he thought that was the wrong move, but Harry pulled at the front of his shirt to drag him back down for more. Because yeah. Yeah, he  _ liked _ that.

The two of them were in that alcove for Harry wasn’t quite sure how long. They were snogging. He and Draco. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy stood there in one of Hogwarts’ dark corners, snogging each other like they were the only ones that mattered. Maybe they were.

And maybe it was the lack of… The lack of breathing, or the alcohol, but Harry had to finally pull away when he was feeling dizzy. When he pulled away, he put a hand against one of the walls to keep himself from falling over. Draco’s lips still tasted a little like firewhiskey. It was kinda nice. Kinda bitter, but a little sweet, too?

“We should… We should go,” Harry told him, feeling like his tongue was tied into a knot in his mouth. He and Draco had kissed. Draco kissed him. Harry kissed him back. He liked it. Merlin, he  _ liked _ it.

Draco stared at him before nodding. “We probably should.” He still had that look about him like he was kinda gone, but that was almost definitely the drink. Harry was probably gonna have to get the both of them back to the dorm.  _ Without _ getting caught.

He wasn’t sure how he did it, but with their hands tangled together, Harry was able to get the two of them back to the common room. Once they got to the door, Harry opened it and remembered that he had the cloak still draped over his arm. He should’ve used that to get them back. At least they were back with no harm done. Draco’s hand slipped out of his, and he walked over to where Pansy and Blaise were still waiting for him, arms outstretched, and Harry watched Draco fall into Blaise’s arms.

“Did you escort our Draco back to us, then, Potter?”

Startling at being addressed, Harry looked at Pansy, finally giving her a nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

Pansy gave him that once over like she liked to do, then it looked like she smirked. “You did, didn’t you?”

Draco whined from the couch with Blaise. “ _ Pansy. _ He drank my drink!”

“Well that is rude,” she said, sounding so… Umbridge. Yeah. Good way to put it. “I certainly hope he pays you back for it, darling.”

Harry… didn’t want to be involved in any of this anymore. He turned and trudged off to his dorm. “Don’t ask me for nothin’,” he grumbled out at them, shooting Draco another glance. They… They should probably talk. Later. In the morning. Yeah. That was a good idea. For now, Harry would sleep. After a shower. He would sleep after a shower.


End file.
